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"It is long I have not hear. We both old now. I hurt my knee on the ice when I come down from Nulato for caribou." "Why do you have two names?" "Unookuk, Nulato name. My father big Nulato Shamán. Him killed, mother killed, everybody killed in Koyukuk massacre. They forget kill me. Me kid. Russians find Unookuk in big wood. Russians give food.
"It was good you get to Holy Cross before the big storm," he said, with a faint smile of tolerance for the white man's tall story. But Peetka laughed aloud. "What good English you speak!" said the Boy, determined to make friends with the most intelligent-appearing native he had seen. "Me; I am Kurilla!" said Unookuk, with a quiet magnificence.
Presently, "Do you know my friend Nicholas of Pymeut?" asked the Boy. Kurilla took his empty pipe out of his mouth and smiled in broad surprise. "Nicholas!" repeated several others. It was plain the Pymeut pilot enjoyed a wide repute. The Boy spoke of the famine and Ol' Chief's illness. "It is true," said Unookuk gravely, and turning, he added something in Ingalik to the company.
I stay with Russians them call Unookuk 'Kurilla. Dall call Unookuk 'Kurilla." "Dall Dall," said the Colonel to the Boy; "was that the name of the explorer fella " Fortunately the Boy was saved from need to answer. "First white man go down Yukon to the sea," said Kurilla with pride. "Me Dall's guide." "Oh, wrote a book, didn't he? Name's familiar somehow," said the Colonel. Kurilla bore him out.
The Boy held out his hand. "How do you do?" "How do you do?" echoed the new-comer, and he also shook hands with the Colonel before he sat down. "Are you Unookuk?" "Yes. How far you come?" Peetka said something rude, before the strangers had time to answer, and all the room went into titters. But Unookuk listened with dignity while the Colonel repeated briefly the story already told.
Plainly it stumped Unookuk. "Come from Anvik?" he repeated. "Yes; stayed with Mr. Benham." "Oh, Benham!" The trader's familiar name ran round the room with obvious effect. "It is good to have A. C. Agent for friend," said Unookuk guardedly. "Everybody know Benham." "He is not A. C. Agent much longer," volunteered the Boy. "That so?"
"No; he will go 'on his own' after the new agent gets in this spring." "It is true," answered Unookuk gravely, for the first time a little impressed, for this news was not yet common property. Still, they could have heard it from some passer with a dog-team. The Boy spoke of Holy Cross, and Unookuk's grave unbelief was painted on every feature.
Two boys ran out, and the native talk went on, unintelligible save for the fact that it centred round Unookuk. In a few minutes the boys came back with a tall, fine-looking native, about sixty years old, walking lame, and leaning on a stick. The semicircle opened to admit him. He limped over to the strangers, and stood looking at them gravely, modestly, but with careful scrutiny.
But these two, who pretended they'd dragged a sled all the way from Holy Cross, they were the biggest liars of all. Just let them tell that yarn to Unookuk. They all laughed at this, and the name ran round the room. "Who is Unookuk?" "Him guide." "Him know." "Where is him?" asked the Boy. "Him sick." But there was whispering and consultation. This was evidently a case for the expert.
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